We Superdads and Wondermoms think we can do it all for our kids. We give life, feed, bathe, house, and train them on how to be...well how to just be anything and everything. We strive for perfection in all ways, a perfect childhood full of cake and rainbows, but the reality is that's not how life works not matter how hard we try. This week, however, this Superdad was confronted with the most difficult thing about being a parent. This week, no matter what I could do, I was unable to protect my family, and especially my daughter, from the pain of loss.
We all experience loss, it's a reality of humanity, and we all need to learn how to deal with it. We hope that kids even get to know loss until they are ready to deal with it emotionally. When might that be? God only knows, but a broken heart is not something a 7 year-old should suffer. Thankfully, our situation was the loss of a pet family member, but the feeling of helplessness was horrific nonetheless. We've all heard the horror stories of kids getting sick, parents dying far too young, or family members suffering catastrophic injuries. As I type this, I can only imagine how heartbreaking it must be to be confronted anything like that. I got a taste of sorrow this past weekend, it's a drink I know we will all have again, but I just hope it's not for a long time.
On Wednesday night we noticed Incredi-daughter's cat was missing. I know what some of you are thinking, "a cat, who f-ing cares?" Well, my family loves our animals, and always will. If you think there is something wrong with loving your pets as family members, you won't like this blog or me so click that little "x" in the upper right hand corner and considering not coming back. This blog is not for you.
Four years ago, we lost one of our cats to a car. It was so sad, but Incredi-daughter was only two, so she never really got it. Six months later, we decided to get the Incredi-kids kittens for Christmas. We met with two different families who had kittens, but neither had two available. Family Number One was a nice family in our home town. Sure, their house smelled a combination of stinky feet, cat piss, and mac n' cheese, but they were local and had a cute little kitten was there and available. Thankfully, and you'll see why, they only had one left. The second family was not very close, but they had what we really wanted, a Russian Blue like the one we lost. We walked in and instantly got nervous. First of all, they were clearly big-time stoners. There was a bong on the table (they didn't try to hide), video games on the TV, plenty of bloodshot eyes, and three grey kittens running all over the place. They clearly loved their cats though, and we told them we would see them on Christmas Eve to pick up the male kitten. Then fate stepped in.
On the night before Christmas Eve, I called to arrange to pick up the kitten from Family Number One the next day. The dad stammered and said he was "real sorry, but all the kittens died when the heater in the garage kinda conked out a few days ago...I don't have nothing for ya." I was so pissed, pissed for my daughter, pissed for those little kitties, but mostly pissed because my perfect plan was a mess.
I had one kitten all lined up from the Stoners, but where in the hell was I going to get a cat on Christmas Eve? I immediately went online and found a 24-hour vet in the hood that had "kittens available." I called and they had two left, so first thing in the morning I was off to find the replacement. I walked into the vet's office and there was a big birdcage with two kittens in it. The first was a black kitten that I had to jab to see if it was alive. No go...this was for Incredi-daughter, and she would not like such a boring cat. The second cat was this super-cute fluff-ball that was literally hanging upside down in the birdcage meowing. She seemed pretty crazy, and I didn't want a long haired cat. I asked the receptionist if there were other kittens, and she said, "are you crazy, it's Christmas Eve." Yeah, I realize that stupid...sorry I asked, go back to your nails and let me take the fluff-ball into the play room to try it out. It was a disaster, the damn thing wouldn't sit still long enough for me to even pet it. So my choice was Sleepy or Crazy. I chose crazy since I figured Crazy wasn't going to die and ruin Christmas.
On Christmas morning Incredi-kids opened up two special presents that had been smuggled into the house only minutes before from the garage. The kids went nuts, and immediately named the grey cat "Gray" and the fluffy cat "Fluffy." The names were perfect in their simplicity, and ended up fitting them both perfectly as they grew up. Incredi-daughter immediately took Fluffy down the hall, and reappeared minutes later pushing that crazy-ass kitten in a stroller wrapped in a blanket. That amazing little spaz sat perfectly still...it was love at first sight for both of them.
Both cats were immediately part of the family, but most of all, Fluffy was best friends with Incredi-daughter. Fluffy slept with her, played with her, and followed her from room to room anytime we were home. The bond was shocking considering what I thought I had adopted, and we were just so happy to see our not-too-emotional daughter showering this ball of fur with love. It was not a one-way street with them either, and they were best friends from day one. Incredi-daugher rarely let me get out of the pet store without a princess collar or toy for Fluffy. That cat was truly loved.
So, fast-forward 3.5 years, and Fluffy goes missing on Wednesday night. Wondermom and I panicked, and looked everywhere thinking how hard this could be for Incredi-daughter. This was unusual for Fluffy to be missing, but she had once hidden in the house all night so we remained optimistic. Optimism faded during the day on Wednesday when she was still gone, but thankfully Fluffy was discovered in a new hiding space later that afternoon. Disaster avoided, and we all breathed a huge sigh of relief.
The rest of the family went to San Diego on Thursday night, but I had to stay behind until early Saturday for work. I came home late after dropping them at the airport and played with the cats. I was so thankful Fluffy was home safe, and she got extra petting from me just because. I looked at our 13 year-old cat and worried how the kids would take it when she goes, but she is healthy and happy so my thoughts went back to watching the hockey playoffs on TiVo.
I woke up Saturday morning at 4:30 a.m., and I couldn't find any of the cats. I had to leave to catch my plane, so I searched everywhere. I knew they weren't out, so I made sure the cats has run of the house and took off. I would be back in 24 hours, and they had plenty of food and water. I didn't think much of the hiding, but in hindsight, I should have known something was up.
We had an amazing day on Saturday, and I was so proud of my kids at the San Diego Zoo on Sunday. We walked everywhere, they didn't fight at all, and by the end of the day we were all done, cooked, finished. Incredi-daughter talked about Fluffy the entire day, and told me at least 10 times she couldn't wait to see her cat when we got home. Every cat we saw at the zoo did something like Fluffy. It was so cute to hear her rave about her baby-kitty.
When we pulled down our street late that night, I told everyone to jump out of the car before I open the garage door to make sure the cats don't run out. There aren't many worse ways to wake up than to hear our cats howl to get back into the house at 3 a.m. The door went up, no cats ran out, and I pulled in and closed the door behind me. Mission accomplished. Incredi-daughter instantly ran into the house calling for Fluffy. A few minutes later she found me unloading the car and told me she couldn't find Fluffy anywhere. I asked if she checked my room, and she said "no, but will you help me?"
We went upstairs and sure enough saw Fluffy sleeping under my beside table from the doorway. Alexa bubbled, "oh, there you are!" I instantly thought was odd that she didn't come greet us, but they tend to get mad when we leave them alone overnight (seriously). Incredi-daughter dove on the ground to pet Fluffy, and then I knew something was wrong. The cat didn't move. Incredi-daughter petted her and tried to hug her, but looked up and said, "something is wrong." I jerked Incredi-daughter off the floor and threw her on the bed. While she watched from over my shoulder, I gently pulled Fluffy out from under the table and immediately knew that she was dead. Unbelievable, from sorrow, to joy, to total disaster in a period of 4 days.
Incredi-daughter let out a scream I never want to hear again the rest of my life. It was pure pain, and not the type of silent scream from an injury followed by crying, but a guttural groaning sound that only comes from the loss of true love. She jumped from the bed into my arms, squeezed me so tight, and just sobbed uncontrollably. Adrenaline was coursing through my body as I ran through the house carrying Incredi-daughter looking for Wondermom. I was totally unable to do anything to fix this, and all I could do was to hold on to her and listen to her suffer. The pain was unbearable. Her loss, our family's loss, and I couldn't protect them. It is my job to fix everything, and no amount of emotional duct tape could solve this problem. Hours passed by, and tears flowed heavily as we wrapped our family member in a towel, put her in a box, and said our goodbyes. The feeling of loss, such surprising and shocking loss, was thick in our home.
Days later, and still smarting from the feeling that there was nothing I could do but be there, and it hit me. There are times as a parent that being there is all we can do. Us Superdads and Wondermoms think we can fix just about anything, insure happiness, and provide a perfect childhood, but we can't. We can't cure death. We can't prevent all suffering. We can't stop the incredible pain that co-exists with amazing rewards of love. What we can do, and must do, is be there when confronted with such loss. I understand that this was only the first of many challenges we'll face as parents. Whether its the first rejection by a crush or the loss of a loved one, where there is love, there will always be loss and pain. Sometimes the healing power of a hug, lying side by side holding hands in silence, or just crying together is all you can offer. It's not a quick fix, but the only way to heal the loss of love is share it ten-times over.
I must say the Incredi-son was amazing. He showered his little sister with love, understanding, and diverted her attention to happy memories of Fluffy. It was incredibly mature. I was so proud of the kid who is so tough and competitive on the field, but who can also be so emotionally nurturing. He was there for his sister in a way I didn't think a 9-year old could be. We must be doing something right so far with that one.
In the end, what I learned from this family tragedy is that being there, not just being present, but truly "being there" is about all you can do sometimes. Being there is not fun and staying away would be far easier, but no one said being a super-hero was anything but the hardest thing we'll ever do.
[In many ways, this event happening on Memorial Day weekend had a
purpose. We talked a lot about the loss many families had protecting
our freedom over breakfast. Nothing could make us feel better, but
Incredi-kids truly understand what Memorial Day means. Thanks to all those who have sacrificed to keep us free.]
